


Through the looking glass, darkly

by cocoa_the_maniac



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Consent Issues, Dark!Thor, Forced Marriage, Forced Relationship, M/M, Mild Language, Mpreg, Violence, alternative universe (crosses over with original)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-06
Updated: 2012-07-16
Packaged: 2017-11-09 07:00:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cocoa_the_maniac/pseuds/cocoa_the_maniac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Chitauri are defeated and Loki is apprehended, but the brothers' journey home is cut short when the Bifrost of an alternate universe crosses over with their own, paving the way for not only an altruistic Loki but also a Thor of a darker disposition...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Just what this place needs—another angsty story! Am I right? ...Probably not, but here goes nothing...
> 
> ((PS: The font changes over the course of the chapter for some reason. I've tried to fix it, but have thus remained unsuccessful. My apologies...))

 ~*~/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\~*~/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\\(((???)))/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\~*~/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\~*~

 

This is how it begins:

Odin's voice rumbles through the heavens, like the quick harsh _snap_ of the universe splitting in two, and the whole of Asgard falls silent. His sons are closest to him when he speaks and the sound penetrates them both to the core; paralysing, as though words alone could strip them of their immortality. In a sense, they can, as they already have with the sole object of Odin's rage—his eldest son, the _heir_ , who stands now before the portal to Midgard stripped of his every worth.

Tears do not prickle the corner of Thor's eyes, but he has trouble meeting Odin's stare and thus keeps his gaze trained on the ground. Loki is equal parts horrified and amazed, torn somewhere between pity and relief as his brother's banishment is finalized. All that he has both feared and desire, here, _now_ , before his very eyes...

He is free.

He is _free_...

When the final blow is dealt, Thor's armour melts away into hot sparks and molten iron. He is thrown back into the portal, arms outstretched, and it is in that instant that the unthinkable happens.

Mj ö lnir is already pressed close to Odin's lips, but the All-father has barely whispered the first of his commands when the hammer is torn bodily from his grip. Down into the void it tumbles after it's one true master, spiralling madly toward Midgard, where the mortals roam, free from all pain and suffering but that which they inflict upon themselves.

Loki's breath catches in his throat. Odin is already calling Heimdall forth, ordering that Thor's descent be altered if not altogether stopped before he reaches the mortal world. And Heimdall tries, that much is clear, but how effective he is in doing anything other than tearing Thor apart somewhere between  _here_ and  _there_ is a mystery even to him.

He edges closer to the portal and gazes into the abyss. Loki can feel it almost, the trail Thor has left in his wake, and it is because of this he is confident enough to signal Heimdall to close the bridge before the mortals' world can be torn apart.

“Where?” Odin asks, because he knows how Loki sometimes slips between the fabrics of the nine realms for no other reason than that he _can._

“Midgard...in a fashion,” he murmurs. It feels oddly now as though he has a second shadow—as though they _all_ do, as if there is an imprint of this realm overlying the original and now somehow Thor has managed to cross over to Midgard's twin... “I will need time. And volunteers.”

Odin doesn't ask how long, only waves one of his guards forward when he catches the glint in Loki's eyes and requests that soldiers be assembled for the journey. Sif will undoubtedly come, Loki thinks, and perhaps another of the Warriors Three, because tearing Thor from a universe wholly unprepared for his rage is not a job for any one man.

Glancing up at the All-father, Loki is painfully reminded of how old he is. The white of his beard, the lines at the corners of his mouth and eyes—he's delayed his slumber for too long now, waiting for Thor to take over as king. Loki knows it; Frigga knows it; _Thor_ knows it—was perhaps hoping for it, even...

“We will find him,” Loki says, although getting Thor to do anything he doesn't want to has always been a feat in and of itself. Loki has his tricks, of course, but there's only so much he can do before Thor applies his muscle as a quick solution. “We won't return until we do.”

Odin nods; smiles sadly. Then he turns away and retreats across the bridge toward the city, for once in his life wholly, and truly, defeated.

~*~/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\~*~/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\\(((Steve Rogers)))/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\~*~/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\~*~

His brain doesn't register the pain until well after the fight. This body of his was built to withstand the worst of war, but it's been so long since the last time he's _truly_ had to struggle just to see the end of another day. He feels edgy, even after he's told that none of the alien corpses have managed to reanimate themselves since their untimely demise, and realizes, dimly, that he hasn't eaten anything in the last twenty-four hours.

Naturally, the Avengers assist however they can in the aftermath of the attack, searching for survivors in the rubble that line the streets. Three days since their victory and Steve is still keeping track of their losses; feels a sharp pang of guilt every time he lifts a slab of iron or concrete to find a cold, stiff body in a pool of blood. Feels worse still when he realizes how many victims have yet to be identified, wondering if there's someone out there searching for them, yet uncertain of their fate, the same way Peggy probably mourned him after he disappeared beneath the ice.

It is now that his body starts to ache. It hurts to bend his back and he begins to feel fatigued, but both Stark and Banner tell him that, considering his fitness regime, it's more likely than not a symptom of stress, so he stretches himself out as best he can and tries to sleep—and eats, occasionally, whenever one of his companions reminds him to.

The fourth day he wakes early and makes himself a half-decent breakfast of scrambled eggs and slightly-burnt sausage, then bikes down to one of Shield's lesser known HQs to see if there's anything else he can do. He finds Thor there, which isn't too surprising, considering that Loki's been confined there, indefinitely, at least until Thor can figure out how to use the Tesseract himself. Selvig is nothing less than helpful in that department, but watching Loki through the glass panels of his new prison and knowing that the Asgardian already knows the secret of its use irks him a way he wouldn't ever care to voice out loud.

The prison itself is essentially a vacuum. Loki has been warned that tampering with the walls or making any attempt at an escape will result in a sudden lose of oxygen, not enough to kill him, certainly, but swiftly enough to suck the breath out of him before he can so much as an utter a spell. Thor assures Fury that their father will attempt to send him some form of restraints before they leave, but until then Loki sits smugly in the corner of his cage and makes a habit of cutting passerbys to the quick with a few choice words to pass the time. He makes a few jabs at Steve when he comes to watch Thor argue with his brother, but Steve is numb now in a way he hasn't been since he first woke up to realize his old life was over and there isn't much anyone can do to change that.

It comes as a surprise to everyone then when an Shield agent pulls Thor out of the room to enquire about _how_ exactly this 'All-father' intended to send the restraints, because their satellites have been picking up a strange reading on Governor's Island that resembles the signature of Thor's first visit to earth and they want to know whether or not to take evasive action.

Thor gives him a weird look (which is really saying something when you consider how odd earth is as a whole to the man and how well he's been taking it all so far), and then brushes past him toward the stairwell, cape wiping the air behind him as Steve jogs to catch up. No sooner are they out the door when another Shield agent runs them down, requesting that Steve jump on the next jet with Natasha to examine the site, because they just got another reading and this one is considerably stronger than the last.

Thor is up in the air before Steve can even blink, but the island is less than a five minute flight away, and apparently Stark is already there, having hacked into Shield's satellites when no one was watching.

It's late in the evening, and Steve doesn't particularly enjoy fighting in the dark, but the three figures they see standing by the island's National Monument just off Comfort Rd don't exactly spring into action the second the jet's spotlights settle on them. It's a small mercy considering the sharp breath Natasha takes when they realize that one of them bears a striking resemblance to Loki. His hair is shorter but there's no mistaking the face of the man with a penchant for terrorizing mankind.

“ _Uh, did somebody pay this guy's bail when I wasn't looking?”_ Stark mutters through his helmet's speaker, _“Or is Fury in the habit of handing out day passes now?_ ”

The Loki that stands before them doesn't look angry or alarmed—even goes so far as to rest his hand on the shoulder of the woman beside him when it looks as though she means to raise her spear. The blond man to their left already has his sword drawn, but decides against levelling at anyone when he notices Loki's gesture, and so the three of them merely stand there, silent, as the air seems to thicken around them until a thin sheen of green light surrounds them like a sphere.

“ _...He just raised a force field,”_ Stark says, sounding stupefied. _“When the hell did he learn that trick?”_

Nobody gets the chance to answer that question, because no more than two seconds later lightning flashes across the sky, an angry swell of storm clouds spiralling into existence above them. Loki and his lackeys cast their eyes skyward, weapons drawn, but Thor takes them all by surprise when he soars onto the scene at ground level from the east, shredding through Loki's force field in a shower of green sparks before knocking the God of Mischief clean off his feet. Together they tumble to the ground, the force of impact carrying them several meters off to the side as the woman takes aim with her spear.

Stark swoops down and tackles her before she can throw it, but she rolls back to her feet an instant later, stabbing the ground with the end of the spear in order to pole-vault herself at his head. She catches him in the face as he turns to stop her, bowling him over with the kick before he can level his arm cannon in defence.

Natasha hovers close enough to the ground for Steve to jump safely out the back of the jet before turning on her speaker. “Loki, call your people off. You've got nothing to gain.”

Stark appears, more or less, to have the wild, amazonian woman under control, keeping relatively even with her, hit for hit, so Steve chases after the other man, who, in turn, is already half-way to where Loki is trying desperately to dodge Thor's hammer. Loki is screaming something at Thor, but he looks nervous more than anything else, and eventually Thor stumbles to a halt.

Both Steve and the other gentleman slow to a jog, eyeing each other warily as they approach the brothers. Steve isn't exactly getting a creepy vibe from the guy, but he raises his hand anyway when it looks as though he means to walk over to him, taking a half a step back to make the message clear. “Stand down.”

“If you think we came here looking for a fight, you're sadly mistaken,” the man replies, and he looks sincere enough to mean it. He even sheaths his sword for good show. Then he glances back at the brothers, each of which is staring at the other in bewilderment. “We're here for _him_ actually. Please— _believe_ _me,_ we have no quarrel with Midgard...”

Steve's heard 'Midgard' enough times from Thor to realize that this guy is from Asgard, and since Thor also only ever mentioned Loki as being unduly hostile, Steve figures that there's a good chance this guy is telling the truth.

Over by the monument, though, Stark and the woman are still duking it out.

“Stark,” Steve mutters after taping his earphone, “stand down.”

“ _Why don't you tell Wonder Woman here that?”_

“ _Stark.”_

Stark sighs into his receiver, but he turns his busters on and rockets into the sky where the woman can't reach him. She watches him warily for a moment and then glances over at the rest of them, lowering her spear cautiously to her side.

“— _home_?” Steve hears off to his left, and it's then that he realizes that both Thor _and_ Loki look as though they're trying to come to some sort of an agreement.

“How long have you been here?” Loki asks, taking a hesitant step forward.

Thor frowns. “Since when?”

“Since you fell. I tried to follow as soon you left.”

“That was several moons ago.” Turning, Thor now addresses the other man. “My friend, what is this trickery?”

The 'friend' in question can offer him nothing more than a horribly confused look before casting his gaze questionably in Loki's direction. “This _is_ the Thor we're after...is it not?”

Loki opens his mouth as though to say _'of course it is'_ , but then stops himself short. Swallowing thickly, Loki returns his gaze to Thor. “...Even _if_ you somehow managed to lead me astray, Mjölnir's power leaves a trail of its own.”

“Mjölnir?” Thor murmurs quietly, glancing down at the weapon in his hand.

“Yes, and you came _here,_ to Midgard, mere moments before we arrived ourselves. Of that I am certain.” Loki gives him the once-over then, clearly unsettled by what he sees. “...How you've come to change your appearance is beyond me, but seeing as I am hardly the only one who can cast illusions, I wouldn't put it past you to try. Now— _don't_ interrupt me, Thor—we've come to take you home. If you leave now, _peacefully,_ I promise to speak with father on your behalf.”

Thor opens his mouth and gaps, looking every bit like a fish out of water. It's comical, in a way, until Stark lowers himself beside Thor and pats him heartily on the back. _“You haven't got an evil twin tucked away somewhere, do you?”_

Thor brushes his hand off with no real menace, ignoring the comment altogether. “Forgive me, brother, but you couldn't be further from the truth.”

Loki looks a little pissed now. Instinctively Steve raises his shield, but Loki only closes his eyes then and sighs, and suddenly Steve feels as though they just avoided some sort of nuclear crisis. “You slipped between the fabric of two realities...I suppose it's _possible_ then that there exists another Thor Odinson, and that that counterpart could be you.”

Steve's mouth suddenly goes dry. Two Thor's—two _Loki's,_ even, are more than he thinks Shield can handle. Hell—more than _humanity_ can handle.

“ _Call me crazy, but I think we should head back to HQ now, you know? Maybe compare Loki A with Loki B before we come to any conclusions...”_

It's about the most diplomatic thing Steve's ever heard Stark say, so Steve lowers his shield and watches as Thor takes Loki gently by the arm—much to Loki's surprise—before disappearing with him up into the sky.

Sighing, Steve turns to the other Asgardian and nods his head at the plane. “Unless you and your other companion can fly, I suggest you get in the jet.”

“ _...Jet?”_ the man enquires.

Steve opens his mouth to explain, but realizes, dimly, that he's not entirely sure how to describe it himself. Stark more or less cackles into his speaker and then takes off, leaving Natasha and Steve to deal with their alien visitors.

Steve doesn't imagine they'll have much trouble with the man, but one look at the woman and he figures that things are far from swell between them. Then again, she keeps glancing around, eyes focused on the thunderclouds overhead, as though she's expecting someone else to drop out of the sky at any given moment...

Steve doesn't say anything, but he gets the feeling that her fears are far from imaginary. He can sense it too, as though someone is watching them, waiting for the right moment to spring. What they're doing here, though, and what they hope to achieve is beyond him, but as long as it doesn't entail another attempt at world domination, he doesn't think he'll lose his mind just yet.

Natasha grounds the jet long enough for them to board, and then, before either of the two warriors are seated, takes off again into the night. The man falls into his seat in surprise; the woman, grabbing hold of one of the siding straps, smiles.

“You've mastered flight,” she breathes.

“Yes,” he replies. “Is Thor the only one who can fly on his own?”

Her smile wavers. “He...well, no.”

“I'm sorry—I'm not trying to intrude.”

“No,” she assures him. “We have no secrets to keep from you, but...there are many things Thor can do. Flight is the least of it...”

Her companion clears his throat, arms stuffed awkwardly through his seat's straps to better brace himself. “Perhaps we need not worry, hm? Thor can be reasoned with...when he wants to be.”

The woman and the man share a look then. It's not lost on Steve, but he decides against enquiring further. He'll have the answers soon enough, and then...

And then, he supposes, they'll search for Thor, wherever it is this alternative deity could be.

Even _if,_ apparently, he doesn't want to be found...

~*~/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\~*~/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\~*~/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\~*~


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: To avoid a little of the confusion that will undoubtedly crop up, any entry from the alternate!Loki's POV will be labelled “Loki Odinson”, with the original Loki's POV appearing under the heading of “Loki Laufeyson”. Likewise, the original Thor will be called “Thor Odinson (Donald Blake)”, with his counterpart being referred to simply as “Thor Odinson”...Confused yet? Good, 'cause so am I...

~*~/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\~*~/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\\(((Loki Odinson)))/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\~*~/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\~*~

The cold, sharp sensation of the wind whipping through his hair, rushing in his ears, stinging his eyes and face is all too familiar to him. This isn't the first time Thor has taken to the skies with his brother in arm, but Loki is not entirely fond of heights, not since the last time the God of Thunder let loose his grip several feet above the ground, so he clings to Thor as best he can and hopes that they haven't got far to go.

His prayers are answered sooner than he thinks as they slow to a sudden halt, his legs inevitably jarred against solid ground. No, not ground—Thor's settled them upon one of the Midgardian buildings, a large, ugly, rectangular thing that lacks the splendour of their home-world temples.

They're close enough to one side that Loki can lean over and gaze down at streets below: dull and grey and _bleak,_ so unlike what he imagined when Odin spoke of Midgard's earlier days, when fields of beryl and gold stretched out unto the horizon and the towering firs of forests old canopied the sky. This...Loki doesn't know how to describe this. He feels a sharp pang of pity in the cradle of his heart and wonders why, if it is indeed true that the All-father protects all nine of Yggdrasil's realms, the mortals would've ever been allowed to fall into such neglect. Surely they are worth more than this. _Surely_ they breathe the same air as he does now and choke on the poison that hangs heavy about their mouths...

A wave of nausea hits him then and he leans gingerly against the ledge. Either it is vertigo or disgust—he doesn't want to dwell upon it. Hopefully, his visit here will be brief.

“Loki...” Thor says, quietly; cautiously. He steps forward and reaches for Loki's hand, but Loki recoils with a sharp jerk, taking a calculated step back.

“Valhalla forbid, Thor, would it _kill_ you to ask?”

Thor fumbles over his next words, looking all the world as though Loki's dealt him a direct blow to the face. “I...My apologies, brother.”

It's Loki's turn to be baffled now, because Thor has _never_ apologized to anyone, least of all him. Taking in the long hair and the ceremonial armour—armour, he might add, that was to be gifted to Thor _following_ his crowning—Loki hasn't the heart to continue fooling himself that this is the Thor he was sent to retrieve.

His stomach lurches at the thought, that _his_ Thor is still at large somewhere, wandering freely across this vulnerable realm...

He takes a deep breath then and blocks out all sight and sound. His vision grows hazy; the roiling thunder softens to a dull thud; his skin tingles lightly but senses nothing, neither the gentle breeze against his face nor weight of his clothes on his back, until he lets loose the marrow of his soul and spreads it out across the world.

He can sense _his_ Thor, but only by the muffled thrum of Mjölnir. Even so, he feels an odd sort of disorientation when he tries to pinpoint its location, as though Thor has finally grown wise to Loki's ways.

 _This_ Thor, however, is enveloped in an effulgence that tugs at the frayed ends of Loki's nerves until he has no choice but to centre his attention solely on him. _This_ Thor's Mjölnir sings a song all its own, and, together with its master's glow, blinds Loki to all other life on earth.

All but one.

Somewhere, on the precipice of his cognisance, Loki can sense his other self, a silent vortex whirling off into the darkest recesses of the universe.

Slowly, but subtly, it is sucking Loki _in..._

“What has transpired here?” Loki asks upon returning to consciousness.

Thor opens his mouth, closes it promptly, and sighs...Licking his lips, he turns away from Loki and begins to pace. “Where do I begin?”

“With him,” Loki murmurs quietly, because he has never imagined it possible to feel such...such _dissonance_ with one's own self. “With the one you call brother.”

Thor doesn't stop pacing, but he glances at Loki long enough for him to catch the glint of grief in his eyes. “He does not consider himself either kith or kin to the House of Odin. He is my brother before all eyes but his own...”

“Why?”

“ _Why_?” Thor laughs, but it sounds more pained than cruel, so unlike Loki's true brother. “...It began as a bid to prove himself my equal and ended with an attempt to conquer Midgard. His mind has been poisoned, though how I cannot say...”

_'Because you've always been superior to me,'_ Loki thinks bitterly, but he buries that thought before it has a chance to take root. Yes, Thor might be Asgard's one true champion, but Loki has always been loved—arguably, more so than his brother. Mischievous as he can be, his pranks can't compare to the blatant cruelty of the would-be king. 

“As little as my word might mean to you,” Loki whispers, “I apologize.”

Thor halts and glances up at him again; the look he gives Loki now is almost enough to break his heart.

“I need to find your counterpart,” Loki says just as soon as he's certain his voice won't quaver. “I was charged by Odin to find him and return to Asgard immediately thereafter.”

“Why?”

“You...” Loki licks his lips, mind racing to find the right words. “ _He_ was banished, Thor...perhaps untimely so. His exile should not have transpired as it did. Regrettably, that is all that I am at liberty to say...”

“Sif and Fandral can confirm this?”

“Yes.”

“And if not?”

“Then confine me; send me back—whatever you deem fit.” Loki glances skyward at the brewing storm and wonders how much of it is guided by _this_ man and how much of it by his real brother. “I have no quarrel with you. Truly. This is merely...a most _unfortunate_ turn of events.”

Thor laughs a little under his breath, almost as though in disbelief, but then he turns and reaches out for a door, opening it wide to reveal a set of stairs. “Follow me and do not attempt to use your magic. _Your_ counterpart is a considered a criminal here; the Midgardians would just as soon as persecute you as they would him.”

“Then I swear by the House of Odin that I shall keep from all intentional ill-doing and to obey, as best I can, the laws of this realm and any realm you may observe.”

Thor pauses; Loki knows he can feel it too, the way the fabric of this reality binds him to his word,. He hopes that it is enough—that there will be no further hostilities between them. Time is, after all, of the essence.

“Thank you,” Thor murmurs eventually; and then: “If it is within my ability to do so, I will help you search for your brother.”

Loki nods, then steps forward, eyeing the stairwell warily. “...Where is it you mean to take me?”

“A man the Midgardians refer to as _'Fury'_. Ultimately, it is his decision as to whether or not you and your companions will be welcome here.”

_'Of course,'_ he thinks, because there is really no contest when you pit a self-proclaimed god against any number of mortal men, and the Midgardians would be foolish to think otherwise.

Sympathetic, though no less convinced that these people can offer him help, he glides past Thor and descends the first flight of stairs in silence, his brother's counterpart in toe. He can only hope that this Fury will see fit to leave him and his companions alone to their business, or, at the very least, not hinder him if he thinks they should be supervised task.

Somehow, though, Loki doesn't imagine that this is likely to be case...

~*~/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\~*~/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\\(((Thor Odinson)))/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\~*~/|\/|\/|\/|\/|\~*~

_Seidhr_ has never been his strong suit.

Even so, the pendant Thor liberated from Loki's chambers nearly a decade ago serves any man, and he, the God of Thunder, is no exception. He doesn't understands its inner workings, only that Loki crafted it lovingly in his youth before he learned to manage the spell himself, and that perhaps he has years yet before Loki discovers it missing. Thor has, after all, only ever used it in secret.

Both Mjölnir and the pendant are the only weapons he has at hand when he descends upon Midgard, his fall hindered only by the fact that his fingers find purchase on the handle of his hammer mere feet above the ground. The wind whips around him upon impact, the ground shuddering at his touch, but no visual mark is made otherwise of his arrival.

He is there for only the briefest of moments, kneeling in the cool grass, his father's jeremiad still ringing in his ears when he feels it: a subtle tug at the core of his being connecting him back to the warm glow of Asgard. It is not _drawing_ him in, per say, but he feels as though the gates of his homeland have been thrown wide open, Odin's cold, hard stare falling heavily, once more, upon him.

He reaches beneath the collar of his tunic impulsively and grasps the pendant tightly in his fist, distancing himself from the point of his arrival mere seconds before an image of Loki manifests before his very eyes. His brother doesn't move initially, seemingly dazed, until Fandral and Sif appear at his side. Then his gaze tracks the horizon cautiously, gliding over Thor as he surveys his surroundings...

Thor very nearly laughs. He wants to—can feel it bubbling up inside his chest, in fact, because if _Loki,_ God of Mischief, sorcerer son of the House of Odin, can't hope to find his brother where he stands now, then Thor has just been afforded an odd sort of freedom he couldn't hope to find anywhere else within the nine realms.

He bows his head then to the heavens, sending the Norn's a silent prayer of thanks, before beginning his retreat by foot. He will return to Asgard, of course, to take back that which is rightfully his, but until then he will enjoy his new found freedom as best he can.

He isn't expecting the storm though, neither the faint rumble of thunder in the distance nor the sudden gust of wind. He turns his gaze skyward, mystified, not entirely certain whether Loki has somehow managed to master the elements as he has or if this phenomena is a common occurrence on Midgard.

A figure descends from the evening sky, clad in red, fire dancing at his fingertips, but does no more than hover when he discovers the trio. The next to follow is a peculiar beast with rigid wings, proceeding no further than the first, but as a flash of lightning illuminates the sky there is no mistaking the man that glides over the field like a raptor after its prey, who grabs Loki with practised ease and, together with his brother, tumbles heavily to the ground.

Thor is far enough away now that he can avoid the battle entirely if he so chooses, but he is insulted by this imposter; wonders what he means by this attack.

The battle is over though almost as soon as it begins. He approaches his brother and the men surrounding him, recognizing Fandral at once but not the warrior opposing him, but by then they have seemed to have reached an agreement and Thor is ready to reach out and grab Loki, maybe put an end to this nonsense; perhaps even wake to realize this is all some sort of drea—

“—slipped between the fabric of two realities...” Loki murmurs. He looks tense—tense in the way Thor usually makes him whenever he walks into the room; lingers too closely; takes him in hand rougher than Loki is expecting—but then an odd sort of peace passes over his expression, and Thor wonders when last he has ever seen Loki to be that relieved. “I suppose it's possible, then, that there exists another Thor Odinson, and that that counterpart could be you.”

Thor pauses, only an arm's-length away from Loki. He glances up at the other... _Thor_ and wonders why the man hesitates in his answer, why he simply doesn't reach out for what is his and bring this matter to an end with the righteous swing of his hammer.

But _this_ Thor is adorned in the armour of a king. He does not attack. Even brushes off the annoying red demon that leans in close to mutter his opinion instead of demanding absolute silence, as though he has lost some of the mettle that had once made him great.

Thor looks back to Loki, sees the war waging in his eyes; Loki is pleased with what he sees, but is unsure whether or not he should truly trust this man.

Thor shouldn't be made jealous by this revelation, but he can't help but wonder who Loki would rather call brother if he had to choose between the evil he knew now and this snivelling excuse of an Asgardian.

He isn't given long to dwell upon that thought. Just as it occurs to him to reach out again, this _stranger_ steps forward to grab his brother about the waist before ascending into the heavens. Thor takes chase; follows them over the vast city of these little people before landing on a nearby building, where he crouches silently and waits.

Almost immediately, he can feel that persistent tug again, so cool and inviting, like the first real blush of spring, but then he feels a heavy weight against his chest, gradually growing warmer, until the pendant is burning him through his armour like a red, hot seed of Helheim fresh from the fires of its plains. He flinches instinctively and reaches up to take it in hand, but by then the moment has passed. Thor's gaze falls on Loki and it is then he realizes that his brother's attention has settled entirely now on _him_...

Who is he, Thor wonders, this great pretender; this would-be king; this...this other _self._ He doesn't understand his brother's notion of two realities intertwined, of nine realms lying upon another layer of nine realms, like an almost-perfect reflection of Yggdrasil on the water's surface. If such a thing were possible, how then have these two halves never met before? Surely, then, this must be some ploy to ensnare him—or possibly a waking dream, devised by the All-father and implemented by his brother to punish Thor where he can be a threat to no one but himself?

He moves closer to the edge; watches Loki flinch away from the imposter before he can compose himself again. Thor can't help but wonder why Loki ever gave chase; why, when he knows that Loki has prayed for his untimely demise, he would come all this way to search for him. Or is it merely because of Mjölnir? Is Thor to be stripped entirely of his power, to be left wandering the nine realms under mortal terms, exposed to all enemies and ailments this world might have to offer? Does Odin merely want to punish him, or has Thor been sent here to suffer a natural death, tucked safely into some obscure corner of the universe where no one will ever find either hide or hair of the truth?

No...No, he thinks, because Odin is not without his wisdom and Loki is never without his wit. Thor's untimely demise so close to Odin's surrender to sleep would be an open invitation to all of Asgard's enemies. They need the Mighty Thor and they need his heir; until then, Thor is safe from their wicked games. This _banishment_ , then, must only be a temporary arrangement.

Thor watches them converse quietly from his perch, but does not pursue them when they disappear into the building. He knows where they are; knows too that they will certainly be searching for him. For now, then, he can rest.

Relieved, he sinks to his knees atop the building and leans back against the ledge, mind whirling as he wonders how one might sneak back into Asgard undetected and without the aid of Heimdall. Surely, it can't be impossible, not with how Loki appeared discretely upon that island with both Sif and Fandral at hand.

It is only because he has settled himself down to rest that he feels it—something other than Loki tugging at his mind. It's in _there_ , with his brother, though he can't quite explain how he knows, only that he understands the invitation for what it is, not quite threatening or overbearing, but alluring all the same...

Thor sits there and thinks. Then he looks down upon Mjölnir where it rests heavily in the palm of his hand and wonders what sort of enemies and allies he can hope to make in this backward universe of theirs. Certainly, there are many of both to be had.

Sighing, he closes his eyes.

And then he listens...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:...Meh. Blah-ending is blah, no?
> 
> In any case, thank you for the many wonderful reviews! If you see any odd sentences or glaring grammar mistakes, feel free to give me a kick. Otherwise, just sit back and enjoy, 'cause this ride is about to get a little bumpy... ;D

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Well, that's all for now, my lovelies! Expect another update soon.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! ;D


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